


How to Fight Like a Girl

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Always Female Theodore Nott, Awkward Romance, Coming of Age, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Feminist Themes, Friends to Lovers, Girl Power, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Hogwarts Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Inter-House Rivalries, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Male-Female Friendship, Old Fic, POV Female Character, Protective Slytherins, Sexism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2021-01-03 11:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21179018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Theodora Nott was not the male heir her father wanted. She knew this because he said so very often. He said it on Christmases and birthdays and Easters and on any occasion he had the chance, really.During her thirteenth summer, Theo decided she was through. She sat sideways on chairs and put her elbows on the table and climbed trees in her best skirts and came home with scrapes on her knees and dirt on her face.She didn't know how much her rebellion could change her fate— or the fates of those around her.





	1. The Dementor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Universe where Theodore Nott is a girl and the Slytherins aren't entirely one-dimensional. Begins during PoA, not strictly canon-compliant but a lot of canon plot points will be addressed. Not beta-read.  
Pairings: Harry/Theo is the main pairing. There are going to be other minor relationships as well, though they won't be focused on as much.  
TW: There are references to physical and emotional child abuse throughout this fic. I tried not to make it any more graphic than is typical of canon.
> 
> Update (Oct. 1st, 2020): After several long months, I've decided to return to this fic. New readers, please bear with the first two chapters. I was still very new to writing then. I will be going back and _heavily_ editing them soon.
> 
> * * *

Theodora Nott was not the male heir her father wanted.

She knew this because he said so very often. He said it on Christmases and birthdays and Easters and any occasion he had the chance, really.

Theo spent much of her childhood trying desperately to win his approval. She always sat up straight. She never spoke out of turn. She smiled politely and nodded along at every prejudiced thing her father said, no matter how much she disagreed with it. 

When Theo went to Hogwarts, the sorting hat offered her Gryffindor._ Daring, bold, brave, _it said. It offered her warmth and acceptance; it offered her freedom. But Theo wanted safety. So she turned down Gryffindor and made her case for Slytherin. _Ambitious, resourceful, determined,_ it conceded, and gave in to her demand. 

But the silver and green of her tie hadn’t softened her father’s temper or shielded her from the hexes he’d throw at her when she got too bold. Being a Slytherin didn’t make up for the fact that she was not a son, and at thirteen, Theo realised that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to please him. She could never be the boy her father wanted her to be, so she decided to be the girl _she_ wanted to be.

When she returned home that summer, she sat sideways on chairs and put her elbows on the table. She climbed trees in her best skirts and came home with scrapes on her knees and dirt on her face.

_This is how freedom must feel, _she thought.

She was disciplined, of course. Within the first week of summer, he took her owl away. Within a month, he confiscated her wand. But the punishments didn’t stop her. Every disapproving look, every curse, every yell only served to fuel her rebellion.

She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she didn’t realise how dangerous until the day before she was set to return to Hogwarts.

He was ranting at her over dinner, which was his favourite past-time. He started in on her appearance; she was too skinny, her hair was too unkempt, her nose was off-centre. Then he attacked her personality; she was over-emotional, disobedient, her voice was too loud, her opinions too strong.

It was nothing Theo hadn’t heard before, and she was able to tune him out until she heard him say, “If your mother were alive, she’d be mortified.”

“At least then I wouldn’t be alone with _you,_” Theo spat back before she could stop herself.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Then the screaming match began. 

Theo was so upset that she didn’t see him drawing his wand, was shouting so loud that she didn’t hear him casting the curse. There was a flash of red light, then pain. It was the most agonising pain she’d ever felt in her life; she felt as though every single one of her nerves was on fire. She was on the ground almost instantaneously, screaming louder than she even knew she could. Her father only stood there and watched, unfeeling, uncaring. 

Whether it lasted for minutes or just seconds, Theo couldn’t say, but when it finally ended, she got to her feet and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her in one last act of defiance.

That night, as she lay on her bed crying, she began to understand how something could be truly Unforgivable.

Theo had never been so eager to go back to Hogwarts. She spent the morning nursing her still-aching limbs and avoiding her father. They hadn’t spoken a word to one another, except when he tore up her Hogsmeade permission slip just before they left home.

Theo didn’t care much about that; she was just relieved he wasn’t going to hurt her again.

When she was finally at King’s Cross station on the morning of September the 1st, she could barely contain her joy. The families on the platform around them were hugging and weeping as they parted ways, but when Theo said her final goodbye, she shed no tears. She would not miss her father the way her classmates would miss their parents.

She was so eager to get away that she nearly knocked over a group of first-years as she ran onto the train. She mumbled an apology to them and headed (more carefully this time) towards her friends’ usual compartment. She smiled when she looked through the small window into the compartment and saw that Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy were already inside. Being without an owl meant that she hadn’t had any contact with them for months, and she missed them dearly.

Theo had known Draco since childhood. Their fathers were close, and it was a very good thing that they got along because they spent a lot of time together. When they came to Hogwarts, Draco became friends with Blaise, and by extension, so did Theo. Daphne, however, was the first friend that Theo had actually chosen by herself. They roomed together and quickly bonded over their shared interest in academics— the fact that they both loved the Kenmare Kestrels didn’t hurt, either.

The train began moving, as trains tend to do, and the group exchanged stories about their summer holiday. Daphne talked about her time at her family’s home, and how her younger sister broke her arm three times while practising flying on an old Cleansweep. Blaise told them about his summer with his mother and her new husband in Palermo. It was a shame that the man married his mother because out of all the husbands she’d had, Blaise liked this one the best. Draco cut in next to tell them all about the various parties and dinners he went to over the summer, and Theo felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. For all his faults, at least her father rarely ever tried to bring her along to formal events. She knew it was because he was afraid that she would embarrass him, but the events sounded dull enough that she didn’t care all that much.

“So, Theo, how was your summer?” Daphne asked, once Draco had finally finished.

Theo shrugged and said, “Boring, really. I pretty much just read. Got through all my new textbooks.”

“So you had time to read, but not to write to me?” said Daphne. “I was _worried_ about you!”

“My father took away my owl,” she said, in what she hoped was a nonchalant voice.

“What did you _do?_” Blaise asked her, suddenly very interested in what she was saying.

“I was reading a family library book in the garden and got dirt on the cover.”

“Oh,” he said, looking discouraged, “I thought that perhaps you’d done something interesting for once.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Blaise,” Theo said flatly.

Daphne looked at her, a frown on her face, and said, “Taking your owl for the whole summer over something so small seems a bit harsh.”

Theo fidgeted with her ring, twisting it in circles around her finger. These were her friends; she trusted them. But they came from different households, and she knew they wouldn’t understand. They would only pity her, and she didn’t want pity, so she frowned and lied, “He’s strict, but— well— it’s because he’s a bit old I think.”

“A bit old?” Blaise repeated incredulously, “He’s _ancient_, Theo. He could be your grandfather!”

They all broke out into laughter, and for the first time in months, Theo was genuinely happy.

After that, the topic changed to Quidditch, and they began debating whether Ireland or Germany would make it to the World Cup next year. Theo and Daphne were hoping for Ireland, while Blaise and Draco were betting on Germany. Daphne chose Ireland because of some extremely complicated statistics that Theo couldn’t decipher. Her own reasoning had less to do with the team’s ability and more to do with sentimentality; Theo knew very little about her mother, but one of the few things she did know was that she was Irish.

By the time their Quidditch debate ended (they decided it was still early enough that it could go either way), the sun was setting, and the countryside around them grew wilder and wilder. Sheets of rain were hammering against the windows, and thunder was rumbling in the distance.

“Do you think it’ll still be raining by the time we get to—” started Daphne, but the train began slowing down before she even finished her question. “Wait, why are we stopping?”

“I don’t know, we can’t be there yet, can we?” asked Theo.

The train came to a sudden, grinding halt, and she heard the loud _thud_ of luggage sliding to the ground. The lights on the train began to flicker, then were extinguished completely. They were in total darkness.

“I think someone’s out there,” Blaise whispered as he looked out the window. His voice was laced with fear, which Theo found very troubling coming from a boy who was usually so sure of himself.

“Is someone coming aboard?” Daphne asked.

“I can’t tell. It’s raining too hard.”

“Who could be out there in this weather, though?” asked Theo.

“Let me look,” said Daphne. Theo could hear her moving around.

“Merlin, Daphne! That was my foot!”

“This is ridiculous,” hissed Draco. “_Lumos_.”

The compartment was illuminated again, but the long shadows cast from the light made everything even more unsettling. A sudden chill swept over her, and Theo realised she could see her breath. The door squeaked open.

Something was in the doorway. Theo couldn’t see its face, as it was completely hidden beneath the hood of its cloak. What she could see, however, was the thing’s hand. It was corpse-like, skeletal, and almost completely decayed. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human.

The thing drew in a deep, long, rattling breath, and suddenly, Theo understood what the creature was. But it didn’t matter anymore— she was already drowning. Darkness was closing in around her quickly. The Dementor was reaching out with its frozen, dead hand. She felt the ice reach her heart, and she wondered if this was what it felt like to die.

Theo felt her head collide with the wall beside her, and she slipped into darkness.

“Theo? Theo, you alright?”

Someone was shaking her. Theo opened her eyes. The lights were back on, and she felt the rumble of the train moving along the track. She was on the floor, and Daphne was kneeling next to her.

She touched the spot where her head collided with the wall and felt blood.

“Are you alright?” Daphne repeated, louder this time. “Can you stand?” 

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” lied Theo. She pushed herself off the ground. Her knees were shaking, and blood was rushing to her head, but she was up. Her stomach lurched, and she quickly sat down in her seat.

Daphne frowned. “You’re bleeding, Theo,” she said, then looked at the boys. “_Well?_ Go get help!”

“Help from _who_, Daphne? The mediwitch on board?” Blaise snapped.

Daphne glared at him. “Fine. I suppose _I’ll _go find someone.” She looked at Theo said, “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

Theo tried not to laugh. She couldn’t imagine she would get very far even if she wanted to move. She felt weak and shivery, the way she felt the night previous, when she’d been recovering from the curse.

“What happened?” asked Theo, wiping a layer of cold sweat off her face.

“Well, you sort of… _fainted_,” said Blaise. “You were twitching, too. It looked as though you were in a lot of pain. Almost like you were—”

But whatever Blaise was going to say, Theo never found out, because Daphne returned at just that moment, an unfamiliar man at her side. He was dressed in frayed, patched clothing and somehow looked as though he had just woken up, and also as though he hadn’t slept in several years.

“Here, Professor,” Daphne said, motioning towards Theo. “She fainted when the Dementors came in.”

The man held out a large piece of chocolate, which Theo looked at with undisguised scepticism.

“Eat it,” he said. “It’ll help.”

She took the bar from him, but she didn’t eat it yet.

“I need to speak to the driver, but it’s very important that you go see Madam Pomfrey when we return,” he told her, and she nodded.

“Well, he wasn’t much help,” said Blaise, after the professor had gone.

“Is _he_ supposed to be our new Defence Professor?” asked Draco, and Daphne nodded in response.

Theo took a small bite of the chocolate, and suddenly she felt a warmth spreading throughout her body.

“The chocolate does help a bit,” she said with a shrug and took another bite, ignoring her friends’ bewildered looks.

By the time they pulled into Hogsmeade, Theo was feeling well enough to stand on her own. Freezing rain was pouring down around her as she exited the train, which didn’t help to make her feel any better. She shivered, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Theo,” he said, but Theo could hear a hint of concern in his voice. She smiled at him in as reassuring of a manner as possible.

They followed the rest of the students towards the stagecoaches that were waiting to take them up to the castle. The four of them packed into one of the musty old carriages. It began to move, rocking back and forth as it ascended towards the school. Theo felt herself getting nauseous again.

Draco must have noticed her discomfort because he looked over at her warily and said, “If you’re going to vomit, be sure do it on Blaise.”

Blaise glared at him, but then the two of them broke into laughter.

“Very funny,” said Theo grumpily, though the corners of her lips quirked up into a smile.

The moment of joy was fleeting, however, because as the carriage neared the school, Theo spotted two more hooded Dementors. They were standing watch on either side of the wrought-iron gates. She felt her stomach lurch, and she clenched her fists, hoping she wouldn’t pass out again.

“Are they going to be here all year, then?” Daphne asked, her eyes flickering over to Theo.

“Yes, I think so,” answered Draco.

“Oh Merlin,” Theo exclaimed, a pit of dread forming in her stomach. “What if I faint in front of everyone?”

Daphne patted her on the back (an action Theo might have found annoying or patronising if it had come from anyone else) and said, “You’ll be fine, Theo.”

“Besides, if you do, we’ll figure out a way to cover for you,” Blaise said; then, grinning, he added, “_probably_.”

Theo rolled her eyes at him, but she still shot him a grateful smile.

They finally rolled up to the castle, and Theo jumped out just in time to hear Neville Longbottom talking very loudly about how Harry Potter had passed out on the train. She glanced over at Draco, who looked like a child on Christmas morning, and groaned. She knew what was coming next.

Theo turned to Daphne, who gave an exasperated sigh and said, “_Boys_.”

When Potter and his friends approached, Draco blocked their path up to the castle. With a delighted grin, he asked, “You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You _actually_ fainted?”

Theo frowned. She tended to ignore these confrontations (the way people usually ignore the bad behaviour of their friends), but this situation felt different. Potter wasn’t the only person who fainted— Draco could have just as easily been talking about her.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron Weasley, his hands clenching into fists.

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Theo cut in first.

“Let’s just go,” she said quietly. Apparently, she was continuing her reckless streak. _The sorting hat would be so proud,_ she thought.

Draco looked surprised, but not nearly as surprised as Potter and his friends did.

“Let’s go,” she repeated, a bit louder this time. “This isn’t worth being late over.”

Daphne nodded and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

Draco looked at them like he wanted nothing more than to protest, but at the but at the terrifyingly pointed look on Daphne’s face, he relented. Still, he couldn’t help himself from calling out over his shoulder, “Try not to faint on the steps, Potter!”

Daphne looked half-ready to tell him off for starting a fight so early, but she never got the chance, because just then, Professor McGonagall shouted over the crowd, “Potter! Granger! I want to see you both! —You as well, Miss Nott!”

She swallowed, wondering what McGonagall could possibly want from her. “Save me a seat, will you?” she said, before heading towards certain doom.

“No reason to look so worried, Miss Nott. Professor Snape and I would just like to have a word in my office,” Professor McGonagall said as she approached.

Theo almost laughed. Even for Slytherins, “having a word” with Professor Snape was most certainlya reason to be worried.

Professor McGonagall ushered Theo and the two Gryffindors across the entrance hall, up a marble staircase, and down a long corridor. When she stepped through the door and into McGonagall’s office, Theo realised she’d never been there before. Under better circumstances, it might have been cosy, with its crackling fireplace and soft seats. Professor Snape was standing beside McGonagall’s ornately carved wooden desk, and Theo thought he looked very much like he didn’t want to be there. She couldn’t fault him for that; she didn’t want to be there either.

McGonagall turned to Potter and began to explain, “Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you and Miss Nott were taken ill on the train, Potter.”

Both Potter and Granger looked over at Theo with mild surprise, and Theo felt herself go very red. It was bad enough that her friends had seen it— Did all Gryffindor tower need to know as well?

Before she could say anything, though, there was a knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey came inside, accompanied by a cart of medical supplies; to Theo’s immense relief, Madam Pomfrey started in on Potter first.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he insisted. “I don’t need anything, really.”

“Oh, I should have known it would be you, Mr Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey with a disapproving frown. “I suppose you’ve been doing something dangerous again?”

(Theo suppressed the urge to laugh; when was Harry Potter _not_ doing something dangerous?)

“It was a Dementor, Poppy,” explained Professor McGonagall.

Madam Pomfrey expressed her extreme disapproval of the Dementor’s presence as she examined Potter. Once she’d determined that he was not, in fact, on death’s doorstep, she turned to Theo. 

“And you, Miss Nott? Professor Lupin mentioned you’d hit your head.”

“Yes, I— ehm— I blacked out and must have hit my head on the way down. I was bleeding earlier, but I’m okay now,” Theo said, desperate to avoid spending her first night back in the hospital wing. “Professor Lupin gave me some chocolate.”

“Ah, chocolate!” said Madam Pomfrey with an approving smile. “So we finally have a Defense Professor who knows his remedies, then?”

Theo smiled, but before she could say anything, Snape cut in, speaking for the first time. “You were bleeding, Miss Nott?”

“Yes, sir,” Theo answered, as Madam Pomfrey inspected the cut on her head.

“And Lupin didn’t think to heal that?” he asked. “He just gave you chocolate and went on his merry way?”

“No, it wasn’t like that, sir,” she said quickly, not wanting to get the Professor into trouble before classes had even begun. “I don’t think Daphne told him I was bleeding and—”

But luckily for them all, Madam Pomfrey ended her assessment and interrupted them.

“—I believe that both of them are going to be okay,” she said, “but I would advise them both not to do any strenuous activity, and to let me know if they begin feeling dizzy or disoriented.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” McGonagall asked, and they both nodded very quickly. “Very well. If you two would kindly wait outside, I’d like to have a quick word with Miss Granger about her schedule, then I shall take you all down to the feast together.”

Theo went back into the corridor with Potter, as well as Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape, both of whom quickly went their separate ways.

“I’m glad that’s over,” she said to Potter, rather awkwardly. She didn’t think she’d ever had a real conversation with him before.

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything. He seemed to be considering something.

“You passed out too, then?” he asked at last.

Theo sighed; she supposed he knew already, so she nodded and said, “Yes, but only for a moment…” Then, just to fill the silence that followed, she added, “I can’t even imagine how horrible Azkaban must be. One of them was bad enough…”

Potter looked like he was about to say something, but at that moment, Professor McGonagall’s door opened. She and Granger re-emerged, and the four of them walked down to the feast together.

Theo let out a contented sigh when they entered the Great Hall. She looked around, taking it all in. There were thousands of candles hovering above the tables, lighting the hall in a warm glow. The ceiling, which was enchanted to look like the sky, was beautiful, despite the abysmal weather outside.

She’d missed Hogwarts.


	2. Tea and Biscuits

When Theo entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, the first thing she saw was Pansy Parkinson, who was laughing loudly with a large group of Slytherins.

“Hey, Potter!” Pansy shouted. “Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter!”

Theo grimaced and glanced over her shoulder to see Potter and his friends walking towards the Gryffindor table, very obviously avoiding looking at the Slytherins. With a roll of her eyes, Theo sat down between Daphne and Draco.

“It’s rather juvenile, isn’t it?” Daphne asked, glancing over at some of the Slytherins who were doing ridiculous impressions of swooning fits.

“Yes, it is,” Theo said with a pointed look at Draco, who pretended not to notice.

Blaise was sitting across from them, examining his new schedule. “Hm. Lots of new subjects today,” he said with a frown. “I was hoping we’d have Potions this afternoon.”

“Blaise, you’re absolutely insane,” Theo said as she filled up her plate with toast. “You’re the only person I know who _hopes_ for Potions.”

Blaise chose not to reply. He looked back down at his timetable.

“It looks like Draco and I have Arithmancy after breakfast,” he said.

“Lucky you,” Theo grumbled. She’d wanted to sign up for Arithmancy with them, but Daphne had talked her into taking Divination instead.

“Divination will be _fun_,” said Daphne insistently. “Speaking of, we ought to go. We need to get all the way to the North Tower.”

With that, they said goodbye to Blaise and Draco and set off towards Divination.

It was a much longer walk than they expected, and by the time Theo and Daphne popped through the trapdoor and entered the classroom, everyone else was already seated. They seemed to have interrupted the Professor in the middle of a lecture. The girls shuffled awkwardly over to a pair of velvet armchairs at the far end of the room. As Theo sat down, she realised that aside from Tracey Davis, who was whispering conspiratorially with Parvati Patil, she and Daphne were the only Slytherins in the class.

“As I was saying,” the Professor said, softly, “My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.”

Professor Trelawney paused as if expecting a response to this proclamation, but the room was silent.

“So you have chosen to study Divination,” she continued, “the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you...

“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future. It is a gift granted to few. You, boy,” Professor Trelawney rounded on Neville Longbottom, who looked terrified. “Is your grandmother well?”

“Er— I think so,” he answered.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, dear… We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. This term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. By the way, my dear,” Trelawney said suddenly to Parvati Patil, “beware a red-haired man.”

Patil whirled around and eyed Ron Weasley, the only red-haired boy in the class, suspiciously. Theo had to cough to hide her laughter.

“Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever,” Trelawney said ominously.

Professor Trelawney seemed to be oblivious to the tense silence that followed.

“Now,” she continued, “I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. I shall move among you, helping and instructing.”

Daphne and Theo had their teacups filled and hurried back to their seats to drink.

“This tea tastes awful,” Daphne said with a frown.

Theo took a sip. The tea was scalding hot, but it didn’t taste off.

“Eh, it seems fine to me,” she replied with a shrug.

“Yes, well,” Daphne said primly, “that’s because your palette is not as refined as mine.”

Theo laughed, attracting a displeased glance from Professor Trelawney. They drank as quickly as they could after that, then drained their cups as instructed, and swapped.

“Do mine first,” Daphne said eagerly.

“Okay, you’ve got an apple... that’s _‘good health and fortune.’_ Congratulations,” Theo said, turning the cup. “This next one looks like a... boomerang, I think? That means _‘news from Australia.’_ ...Do you know anyone in Australia?”

Daphne shook her head, looking disappointed, and said, “Nope.”

“Well, I’m going to fail this class,” Theo said optimistically. “What do you see in mine?”

“It looks like a... tortoise?” Daphne replied uncertainly.

“Hm. What does that mean?”

Daphne glanced down at her book and read, “Er— It means _‘you attempt that of which you have no knowledge’— _sorry.”

“Oh, excellent,” Theo said with a snort.

Daphne rolled her eyes and turned her cup, but she didn’t have time to say anything else because, at that moment, Professor Trelawney swooped over to them.

“Broaden your mind, my dear,” she said to Daphne. “Allow your eyes to see past the mundane!”

Daphne looked like she was about to say something, but Professor Trelawney was already distracted by Potter and Weasley, who were sitting at the table in front of them and laughing.

“Let me see that, dear,” Professor Trelawney said, and she grabbed Potter’s cup in a rather dramatic fashion. The room fell into silence.

Professor Trelawney stared into the teacup.

“The falcon... you have a deadly enemy.”

“But everyone knows _that_,” whispered Hermione Granger.

Professor Trelawney stared at her.

“Well, they do. Everyone knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.”

Everyone was silent. Professor Trelawney turned back to Potter’s cup.

“The club... an attack. Dear, this is not a happy cup... The skull... danger in your path...”

Then, Trelawney rotated the cup a final time and let out a sudden scream.

Theo nearly dropped Daphne’s teacup in fright. Professor Trelawney sank into an armchair, her eyes closed.

“My dear boy... My poor dear boy... No— it is kinder not to say...”

“What is it, Professor?” asked Dean Thomas.

Everyone was crowding around Potter and Weasley’s table, trying to get a better look at his cup.

“My dear,” Professor Trelawney said, “you have the Grim.”

There were gasps of shock and horror. Daphne, in particular, seemed very affected by this news; she had gone very white, and she was gripping the edge of the table so firmly that it was tipping slightly.

“The what?” Potter asked, confused.

“The Grim, my dear, the Grim! The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! It is an omen— the worst omen— of _death_!”

Everyone was staring at them. Everyone except for Theo, who was looking at Daphne, and Daphne, who seemed to have recovered from her horror and was now staring at Professor Trelawney as though she were something on the bottom of her shoe. Theo thought she looked remarkably like Draco, but she wasn’t stupid enough to say so.

Daphne sniffed and said, very loudly, “Well, I don’t know about you, but _I_ think it’s quite rude to predict someone’s death the first time you meet them.”

Professor Trelawney looked at her, affronted. Theo stared at Daphne with a mixture of awe and amusement; she’d never heard Daphne talk to a Professor that way. Usually, Daphne treated adults (and especially Professors) with the utmost respect.

“I think we shall leave the lesson here for today,” said Professor Trelawney, still 

The class packed up their things and left in tense silence.

“Who in Merlin’s name does that woman think she is, going around and predicting students deaths like that?” Daphne huffed as they descended the winding stairs.

“Professor Trelawney knows what she’s talking about,” said Lavender Brown, haughtily. “She’s a _Seer_.”

“She can’t be a very good one if she’s teaching a group of teenagers how to look at tea leaves instead of doing something important,” Daphne replied.

Lavender looked like she didn’t have anything to say to that. She crossed her arms and walked off, her nose in the air.

“I told you we should’ve taken Arithmancy,” said Theo, shaking her head.

The rest of the day went just as poorly. While Theo had been sitting quite happily in her Ancient Runes class, there had, apparently, been an incident involving a Hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures. Blaise had narrated the story with an almost distasteful amount of excitement, and Madam Pomfrey was refusing to let anyone visit him, both of which did very little to soothe Theo’s fears about his condition.

It wasn’t until Thursday, at the beginning of their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with the Gryffindors, that she finally saw Draco again, and to her relief, he seemed to be doing just fine. In fact, Theo thought he looked far too pleased with himself as he recounted his harrowing ordeal to some of the other Slytherins.

“Does it hurt much, Draco?” Pansy Parkinson asked him, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Draco said with an exaggerated wince.

Pansy fawned over him for a few minutes more, treating him as if he were a wounded baby animal. The moment she turned around, Draco winked over at Blaise.

Theo rolled her eyes and looked over at Daphne. “He’s such a prat,” she muttered, though there was a hint of warmth in her voice. 

“Truly,” said Daphne, who was barely able to contain her laughter at the spectacle.

Once he’d finally finished with his dramatics, Draco made his way to them.

“How is it, Draco?” Blaise said, putting on a high-pitched voice and imitating Pansy’s wide-eyed expression. “Does it hurt much, Draco?”

Theo had to cough to hide her laughter. Draco’s ears went slightly pink, and he glowered at Blaise, who was snickering at him.

Daphne stepped in and asked, diplomatically, “When do you think you’ll be able to use your arm fully again?”

“I’m not sure,” Draco answered, sitting down beside her. “Madam Pomfrey said it would take a while to heal.”

“You idiot,” Theo said reprovingly. “You could’ve _died_, you know.”

“Worried about me, were you?” he asked, wearing a smug smile that she found simultaneously infuriating and strangely reassuring.

Theo glared at him and chose not to reply, electing instead to unpack her bag.

Professor Lupin arrived shortly before class was due to begin, dressed in the same shabby robes he’d been wearing on the train. His briefcase wasn’t faring too well either, and it looked like it was falling apart. Theo briefly wondered how much Hogwarts Professors were paid.

“Good afternoon,” Professor Lupin began. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today’s lesson will be a practical one.”

The class exchanged puzzled looks as they packed up their things and grabbed their wands. Daphne had her hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“Please don’t be pixies. Please don’t be pixies,” she whispered.

Theo was silently hoping the same thing. The disastrous first lesson of the previous year had left her with an intense hatred of both Cornish Pixies and Gilderoy Lockhart.

“Right then,” Professor Lupin called out once the rustling of papers and books had subsided. “If you’d follow me.”

The class got to their feet and followed the Professor out of the classroom. He led the class through several winding corridors before they arrived at the Professors’ staffroom. Theo looked around the room in awe. It was shabby, with furniture that didn’t match and tables that looked like they were about to fall apart, but it felt forbidden and was therefore very cool.

Among the threadbare armchairs was Professor Snape, who watched them all file in before he said, “Leave the door open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.” Snape got to his feet and strode towards them to the door, but he stopped on his way out and sneered, “Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

A few of the others laughed, but Theo looked over at Neville, who looked absolutely mortified, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows. “Actually, I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation,” he said, “and I am sure he will perform it admirably.”

Professor Snape’s lip curled, and he swept out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room. There, in the corner, was a beautiful old wardrobe, ornately carved out of mahogany wood. It looked woefully out of place in such a dingy room. The wardrobe gave a sudden wobble as they approached, banging off the wall. Theo and Daphne both jumped back with a start.

“Ah, nothing to worry about,” said Professor Lupin nonchalantly. “There’s a Boggart in there.”

“Nothing to worry about?” whispered Daphne incredulously. “Is he mad?”

Theo had to agree with her. Boggarts were nasty things, and were, in her opinion, a perfect example of something to worry about.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,” Lupin explained. “Wardrobes, for instance, or cupboards under sinks— I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.” He paused. “So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?”

Predictably, Hermione Granger’s hand shot up into the air. Theo raised hers, too; she remembered reading about Boggarts over the summer holiday. Professor Lupin looked between the two of them, and Theo was sure he was going to call on Hermione, as most Professors did, when he said, “Yes, Theodora?”

Theo wrinkled her nose at her full name, and she took a second to elbow Draco, who was snickering beside her, before she responded.

“Well, nobody really knows, do they?” she said. “Because Boggarts are shapeshifters. They turn into whatever a person fears most, but nobody knows what they look like when they’re by themselves.” She paused and added, “And I just go by Theo, sir.”

“A wonderful answer, Theo,” said Professor Lupin. Granger looked more than a little disappointed, but Theo found herself beaming. “The Boggart sitting in the darkness within the wardrobe hasn’t assumed a form yet, but when I let him out, he’ll immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Potter looked surprised to be called on, and Hermione was raising her hand eagerly beside him. “Er— because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?” he said.

“Precisely!” said Professor Lupin. Hermione now looked incredibly dejected. “It’s best to have company when dealing with a Boggart. Now, the charm that repels a Boggart is simple. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We’ll practise the charm without wands first. Repeat after me..._ Riddikkulus!” _

Theo felt silly saying the words without a wand, but she did it anyway.

“Good,” he said, “but the incantation is the easy part. Now, this is where Neville comes in. What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

“Professor Snape,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville was grinning sheepishly. The doorknob on the wardrobe rattled ominously in response.

Professor Lupin hummed thoughtfully and said, “Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?”

“Yes, but I don’t want it to turn into her, either,” said Neville, nervously.

Professor Lupin smiled and shook his head, “Not to worry. See, when the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe and sees you, it will change into Professor Snape. You will raise your wand and say _Riddikkulus, _and I want you to concentrate hard on your grandmother’s clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into them.”

The class descended into laughter once more, and the wardrobe shook violently.

“Now, if Neville is successful,” Professor Lupin said, “the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn. I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical.”

Theo’s immediate thought was of her father. She stiffened, dreading finding out whether any of her classmates, aside from Draco, would recognise her father.

She knew she looked nothing like him. He was a stooped, dark-haired man with a permanent scowl and piercing black eyes that could make even the bravest of men tremble. Theo, on the other hand, was tall and gangly, with heavy brown hair and warm hazel eyes. The only things she’d inherited were his round face, sloped nose, and ruddy complexion.

“Everyone ready?” asked Professor Lupin suddenly. Theo nodded and began rolling up her sleeves with the rest of the class, silently hoping that nobody would be paying attention when it was her turn. “Let’s all back away, and I’ll call you each up one at a time, starting with Neville.”

The class backed up as instructed, lining up against the walls. Neville took a step forward, pale and frightened, but he held his wand steady.

“One... two... three... _now!” _

The wardrobe flew open, and Professor Snape stepped out. Or, rather, the Boggart did. Longbottom backed up as he approached, but he gulped and yelped,_ “Riddikulus!” _

There was a cracking sound, and Boggart-Snape stumbled back. He was suddenly wearing a lacy gown and an ostentatious hat topped with a taxidermied bird.

Most of the class was laughing, even some of the Slytherins. Daphne was doubled over, and Theo’s sides began to hurt from giggling so hard. The Boggart looked around, confused.

“Parvati! Forward!” Lupin called.

Parvati Patil faced the Boggart. Another crack and Snape became a mummy.

_ “Riddikulus!” _she cried.

The mummy began to unravel and tripped on its bandages.

“Excellent! Dean, you next!”

And on he went, through nearly the entirety of Gryffindor, until—

“Daphne!” called Professor Lupin.

Theo felt Daphne tense beside her, and she patted her back encouragingly. “It’ll be all right,” she said quietly.

Daphne nodded, set her jaw, and approached the Boggart.

_ Crack! _

The Boggart shifted into a giant black dog— the Grim. Theo suddenly understood why Daphne had such a strong reaction to Trelawney’s antics. The dog growled and began advancing towards Daphne.

_ “Riddikulus!” _Daphne shouted. The Grim turned into a puppy, which yapped about happily at her feet.

_ Crack! _The puppy turned into a rat, which became a rattlesnake, which became a single bloody eyeball.

“Theo!” Professor Lupin called.

Theo steeled herself and stepped up.

_ Crack!  
_

She watched the Boggart transform, but it didn’t change into her father, as she expected. Instead, standing before her was a tall, hooded figure— a Dementor.

Theo heard a few gasps from the crowd of students, and she let out a soft, “Oh.” Her breath was visible in the air.

The thing came closer and closer until it was so close she could touch it.

_ “Ridikkulus!” _she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Nothing happened.

The Boggart drew in the familiar rattling breath of a Dementor, sending shivers down Theo’s spine. Her body felt cold and heavy, as though her blood had turned to ice in her veins. Theo felt darkness closing in again. She was sure she was about to pass out when Blaise grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the crowd. 

Theo leant against the wall for support, breathing hard.

“Are you all right?” Daphne asked once Theo had caught her breath.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Theo lied. “But Blaise might’ve bruised my wrist.”

Draco looked at her sceptically and said, “You looked like you were about to pass out.”

“I’m _fine_,” Theo insisted.

It was then that she realised that a large portion of the class was staring at her, and as she glanced around the room, she caught Potter’s eye. 

Unlike the rest of her classmates, who were plainly gawking her, his expression was an odd mix of perplexed and unsettled. He seemed to turn slightly pink when he noticed her looking back at him, and he looked away quickly. Theo stared down at the stone floor below her.

The rest of the class passed in a blur, and the next thing she knew, Professor Lupin clapped his hands, doled out a few points, and dismissed them.

Theo spent the remainder of the day desperately trying to avoid any sort of human interaction. It was hard work getting away from Daphne, who was both concerned and determined enough to have searched nearly the entire castle for her, but she’d managed to hide in a secluded alcove of the library. She studied through dinner and late into the evening until, at last, Madam Pince forced her out. 

The moment Theo shut her books and allowed her mind to stray from her classes, her thoughts drifted to that horrible chill, the shaking that followed, She found herself in tears as she exited the library.

It was, of course, in this moment of vulnerability that she rounded a corner and ran directly into another student.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry!”

Harry Potter stared back at her.

Theo wiped her eyes quickly and repeated, “Sorry, Potter.”

“It’s fine,” he replied with a nonchalant smile that caught her completely off-guard. The two stared at one another for a moment before he blurted out, “Are you all right?”

Theo blinked at him, surprised.

“I’m fine,” she lied, fighting the urge to rub at her eyes again. “The library just closed, so I’m just— ehm— going to get something from the kitchens.”

Potter seemed to perk up at this. “You know where the kitchens are?”

Theo nodded hesitantly.

“Could— er— Could you tell me?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, considering it. “I’ll do you one better,” she said finally. “I’ll show you. Follow me.” 

There was a moment’s hesitation before he nodded and fell into step beside her, following her several stories down.

“Where are we?” he asked, after Theo made a sharp left turn at the marble staircase of the Great Hall and down a flight of stone steps.

“We’re nearly there, don’t worry,” said Theo, leading him through a brightly lit corridor and stopping in front of a large painting of a bowl of fruit. She reached out and tickled the huge green pear in the portrait, which giggled and suddenly transformed into a door handle. She pulled open the door and stepped through, motioning for him to follow.

The kitchens were just as big as the Great Hall above and had four long tables that mirrored the layout of the hall. At least fifty house-elves were huddled around and staring at them as they entered, and a dozen or so more were cleaning the piles of pots and pans that seemed to line the counters along the walls.

“So here we are,” Theo said, gesturing at the room around them. “This is one of the best places in the castle, in my opinion.”

She made her way to the end of the table that was nearest the massive brick fireplace at the end of the room, and to her surprise, Potter sat down opposite her. Almost as soon as they were seated, several house-elves were at their side. The elves were attentive hosts, and quickly brought out food: a tray with a teapot, milk and sugar, and two teacups; biscuits; and a plate of treacle tart that Theo assumed was left-over from dessert.

“Merlin, I’ve been so hungry,” Theo sighed as she bit into a biscuit. “I spent almost all day in the library. Didn’t go to dinner.”

“Because of Defence?” Potter asked suddenly. The look on his face told her that he was just as shocked at his words as she was.

Theo stared at her hands, which were fidgeting nervously in her lap. 

There were rules, she knew. Rules her father had drilled into her head from birth; rules about never showing emotions or weakness, rules about letting herself get close to people with less than spotless pedigrees. But Theo had spent all summer breaking rules. She’d had a taste of freedom, of independence. _Break one rule, you might as well break them all,_ she thought.

“Yeah,” she said finally. “I didn’t feel much like eating dinner with people staring at me.”

Potter looked surprised by her answer. He probably hadn’t thought she’d respond at all, much less answer honestly.

“It’s just a bit embarrassing that I couldn’t best a Boggart,” she said.

“I didn’t even get a chance,” he said glumly.

“Well, it’s obvious why, though, isn’t it?” said Theo, her eyebrows furrowed. Potter stared at her in a way that made it very clear that it was not obvious. “I think seeing You-Know-Who might be a bit much for the first class of the term.”

Potter blinked. This seemed to be the last thing he had expected her to say. “I didn’t think about Voldemort,” he said, ignoring how Theo flinched at the name.

Theo couldn’t imagine what could be so bad that Potter was more afraid of it than he was of the Dark Lord himself. Despite herself, she asked, “What did you think about?”

He was silent for a long moment, and Theo was half-expecting him to tell her it was none of her business when he said, “The Dementors.”

“Oh,” Theo said quietly, surprised at the response. She, like everyone at Hogwarts, had heard all sorts of stories of things Harry Potter had done. If they were to be believed, he’d fought a troll, he’d faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and he’d killed Slytherin’s monster. But the worst fear he had was a Dementor, same as her. 

It was oddly reassuring.

They were still in the kitchens a half-hour later. Their tea had grown cold, and the topic of their conversation had somehow pivoted to Quidditch.

“Now, you have to answer this very carefully,” Theo said, her serious tone contrasted by a wide grin. “What’s your team?”

“I dunno. I guess I don’t have a favourite— not like Ron does,” said Potter.

“Oh?”

“He’s a big fan of the Chudley Cannons,” he explained.

“Well, I suppose someone has to be,” said Theo, laughing.

He looked at her as if trying to determine whether she meant it rudely, but after a moment he smiled, too. “What about you?” he asked.

“The Kenmare Kestrels.” Theo beamed. “They’re best in the league right now, and a few of their players’ll be playing for Ireland in the World Cup. I’m hoping to go see the Cup next summer if they make it.”

“Ireland’s all got Firebolts, haven’t they?”

“Yeah, but it’s not only the broom. They’re all very talented, too. Carina McHale, their seeker, is the most amazing I’ve ever seen— No offence,” she said hurriedly, not wanting to start trouble. “You’re still really good, I mean. Everyone knows you’re the best seeker here.”

By the time Theo realised what she’d just said, it was already too late; Potter was staring at her in surprise. “Er— thanks?” he replied, more a question than a statement.

“You’re welcome,” said Theo, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

They sat in an awkward sort of silence for a few minutes before Potter let out a yawn.

“It’s late,” Theo said. “We should get back to our common rooms.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

They had just begun consolidating their dishes when a house-elf sped over and insisted he’d take care of it. Theo felt a little guilty just leaving, but house-elves were nothing if not persistent, and she and Potter soon found themselves being pushed through the portrait hole and back in the warmly-lit corridor.

“Goodnight, Potter,” Theo said when they reached the forked corridor where their paths parted.

“Harry.”

Theo blinked. “Hm?”

“My name’s Harry,” he repeated.

“Oh. All right then,” she managed to say. “Goodnight, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update (Oct. 1st, 2020): Old readers, you are not going crazy. This was formerly two different chapters. I cut it down a bit and combined them.


End file.
